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12-05-2016, 04:05 PM
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“how long is forever?” asked alice. “sometimes just one second.” said the white rabbit. ______________________________________ The white raven's feathers stand on end as the shrill howl spreads like a shock-wave across the Basin, which is just now starting to bask in the pink light of a rising sun. The forests have been awake for hours, even in the darkness, the slumber of winter is deepening but still some diligently mine away at their daily tasks. Snow encases everything and so the ongoing search to fill one's tummy is always available as a task – that is what the piebald unicorn is busy doing when the Queen casts her call out to the herd. Phrixus swoops down from the pines to land in front of her, cocking his head to the side and croaking slowly, his breath rises as curls of mist as he peers up at the shaggy sienna eyed mare. It's Hotaru. Their minds think in unison and it's unclear which mind declared the statement first, nor does it matter, because it is certainly fact. Phixus lifts off with a powerful sweep of his giant wings and his companion starts after him, first jogging and then loping through the knee-deep snow until she reaches a well worn path – where she can then pick up speed to join the gathering crowd. They arrive just before their Queen tosses a clanking heap of armor in a pile before her. Phrixus grabs at his mare's withers and leers around her ruffled mane while she finds her place among the crowd, wide-eyed at the sharpened voice and bold of the Queen she hasn't really seen much (not because Ru's not around, but because Tangere is not engaged much in herd life). Change. Her inner voice mulls the word, forms the dreams of what spreads from such a word, weaving through the possibilities as she studies the face of her rose-blood colored leader. Tangere still has not fully decided whether or not all of her faith can be put into the Lady, but today, now, at least she is trying to summon some sort of win for the once thriving Kingdom of the North. Deimos brings himself forward in typical form and her hazelnut eyes move across him only briefly, her ears twitching at his growling voice and riling rhetorical questions. I am a healer and a scholar, a gardener and botanist – I care not for the spoils of war, or the violence of battle; but for my family? She keeps the idea inside for now, as others are stepping forward. Many seem serious, many seem much stronger physically than herself, she sighs quietly in relief and leaves the subject of joining the army to herself. She slides closer to Lena and follows her lyrical voice with her own soft, chiming tone. “Yes, me too, anything to help.” She nods, half-heartedly satisfied. She was hoping to have more input, more impact, but she simply has nothing for them other than her open offer.  |
- You may use violence and magic against her at will, but no death.
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